Horrific
by Ghost Of Gore
Summary: While everyone else is in high school, Damien returns one day to confront Pip. The encunter goes completely wrong and soon enough, many others are sucked into the madness going on... Warnings are inside. First real fanfic.
1. From Hell

**Warning!** This story is rated **M** for violence, possibly disturbing material, swearing, use of drugs and alcohol, mentionings of/hintings at sexual things, and possibly boy-boy love later on. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own South Park or any of the characters in this fanfiction. Those belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone. I also do not own pretty much anything in this story unless mentioned otherwise.

* * *

The only sound that could be heard was the wind, casting little flakes of snow about as if pushing them out of its way. What had begun as a breeze seemed to be changing into a storm of some sort as the sun sank. The graveyard was nearly empty, save for one skinny boy standing near a headstone. He knelt down in the snow, shivering from both the cold and the eerie feeling he felt from being around... well, the dead.

"Oh, dear..." Phillip Pirrup, or _Pip_ to those who bothered to remember he existed, whispered. He shook his head slowly, looking at the words engraved in the cold, grey stone. He had never really been fond of Kenny McCormick, or even known him very well, but Pip was just the kind of person who would visit the grave of someone he didn't know simply because they had died. Even if that person died at least once a week.

He sat in silence for a while, then slowly stood up, brushing snow off his pants. The sky had become dark, and the wind had become much stronger. Pip turned around and began to walk slowly to the cemetary gates, rubbing his arms as he trudged through the snow. The sudden crack of thunder and flash of lightning caused the blonde to shriek in fright, stumbling and falling to the ground.

If Pip hadn't slammed his head against a headstone when he fell, he would have gotten right back up and ran back home. Instead, he was now sprawled flat on his stomach, knocked senseless and completely still. Anyone who happened to see would have thought him to be dead like everything else in the graveyard. It wasn't until he started to pull himself up to his feet that he was aware of a noise he hadn't expected to hear until the next day in school.

_ Laughter_. He could hear someone laughing at him - a harsh, sadistic cackle that seemed to echo in the howling wind. Pip stood up, one hand on his now aching head. He looked around, his vision a bit blurry, for the person who had laughed at him. It was dark and he was still dizzy, so it took a moment for the British boy to finally locate the other person in the cemetary. His light blue eyes opened wide, his mouth opening slightly as if he were about to speak.

A tall, pale teenage boy stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a simple black sweater and black skinny jeans. His shoes, of course, were black as well, and so were his clawlike nails. A silver inverted cross hung from a thin chain around his neck, flailing in the harsh wind as if it were trying to fly away. Black bags under his eyes from an apparent lack of sleep intensified the fierce, eerie look of his blood red, glowing eyes.

The raven-haired boy smirked at the blonde, his hair waving in the howling winds. Pip tried to speak, but the words seemed to be stuck to his tongue. After a short pause that felt like years to the Brit, he swallowed, and finally managed to speak.

"D-Damien?..." Pip squeaked, taking a step back. "Is that you?"

"Of _course_ it's me." Damien responded coldly, looking quite unimpressed. He stared down at the blonde for a moment, looking a bit frustrated. "What? You're not going to run? Not going to try to attack me? Not even going to be a little mad?"

Pip blinked, shrinking back slightly. "Whatever do you mean, Damien? Why would I do such things?"

"I set demons from Hell upon you and set you on fire for the amusement and acceptance of children I hated..."

Pausing for a moment, Pip thought about what had happened. He shuddered as he remembered it - it had been years ago, sure, but it still scared him that anyone had been able to do such a thing so easily. Yet, he had always been so _passive._ He never let anything bother him too much - everything just worked out better that way.

"I suppose I _should_ be angry or scared," Pip began hesitantly. "but I can't say I really _am._ I mean... you got to be happy, right? It was worth it, right? You're my friend, Damien. I'm glad you could be accepted for at least a little while."

Damien stared at the blonde, then suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders.

"People still mock you, do they not?"

"Oh, why, er, yes, they do. But I don't mind!"

Damien shook his head slowly, grinning a fanged grin. "Pathetic. You are really, really _pathetic._"

Pip squirmed just a bit, then froze as he felt Damien's nails dig in to his already bruised and scarred flesh. The raven-haired boy leaned forward and whispered into the blonde's ear in a sinister, sadistic tone. "_I can help you._"

The last thing Pip Pirrup saw was Damien's face growing closer to his, jaws wide open and sharp teeth bared... and then, everything faded to black.

* * *

Well! Ah... This is my first fanfiction I've written in a long, long time! So... I sincerely apologize if it isn't very good. I didn't spend much time on this chapter, and I will say now that this plot probably won't pick up until second or third chapter. Sorry, I'm just not good at beginning things. Reviews would be nice, and helpful, constructive criticism would be useful as well. Just... please go easy on me! xD;


	2. Murder and Theft

... Well. Here's chapter two. Things get a bit crazier now, I guess, and the madness begins.

And I still, unfortunately, do not own South Park or any of its characters.

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"Come on, man! I'm your _best friend!_" Stan Marsh whined. He had been doing this all morning, and it was starting to get on a certain redhead's nerves...

Kyle Broflovski sighed, annoyed. "_Fine_, Stan, but you _really_ need to start doing your _own_ homework, or at least ask someone else to do it. Really..." He reluctantly handed his homework to a now grinning Stan. "Can't you just ask Wendy or some--"

The redhead stopped midsentence, blinking slowly and staring past his friend. His eyes went wide, and he took a step back as Stan, confused, turned around. The two boys stared at the sight before them, wide-eyed and quite pale.

"Holy fucking shit." Kyle hissed, watching as Stan covered his mouth as if to keep from puking. It seemed that then the rest of the students in the hallway noticed as well, and the noise of gossip and chatter ceased. At first, it was silent as an empty graveyard... Then, the screams started.

A blonde boy stood in front of the open hallway doors. He was hanging his head so that a shadow fell across his face, but anyone who was familiar with the students knew it was Pip Pirrup. The only part anyone could see of his face was a big grin, teeth stained with something dark and red. However, it was what he was holding that made everyone stare and scream and run.

In one hand, he held a large, jagged knife, which was dripping blood onto the floor.

In the other hand, Pip held the bloody head of Bebe Stevens.

Students ran about screaming, or simply stared at the British boy. As they ran about, panicking, Kyle swore he could hear a terrifying, demonic laugh coming from Pip.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Wendy screamed in horror, taking a step towards the Brit. "YOU _KILLED_ HER!" Pip simply laughed in response, kicking Wendy away from him. Strangely, instead of simply knocking her over, the kick sent Wendy flying across the hall. If everyone hadn't been screaming so loud, the sound of snapping bones may have been heard.

By now, most students had run away - probably to hide somewhere or to run home - and a few teachers stood gaping. It was then that Kyle regained his senses and grabbed Stan's wrist tightly. "_We have to get out of here._"

No other words were needed, at least, not at this moment. The two boys took off down the hallway, Kyle pulling Stan along until they found themselves in the boy's bathroom. They both stood panting and staring at the door, as if expecting a deranged Pip to burst in at any moment. After taking a moment to catch their breath, Stan looked at Kyle with wide, terrified eyes, his face drained of all colour.

"What the _fuck_ was _that_?!" He gasped. Kyle, too stunned to speak, simply shook his head in reply, as if to say, "_I don't know, Stan. I don't know._"

The two teenagers glanced around the bathroom for a moment, then Kyle darted to the single narrow window, standing on his toes and stretching his arms and legs to pry it open. Walking to his friend's side, Stan held out both his hands for the redhead to use for support. Kyle nodded and, soon enough, the two were both outside.

"Well, Kyle..." Stan began, exhaling heavily. The curly-haired boy couldn't tell if it was a sigh or not. "Looks like we've somehow been thrown into another big mess..."

* * * * *

Craig Tucker yawned, rolling over onto his stomach. The thin boy stretched himself on the carpeted floor, eyes still shut as he dozed in front of Tweek's TV. Tweek himself had stayed home sick that day, while Craig had simply played hooky and come to the Tweak residence as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Tweak had left for work.

Suddenly, a little shriek could be heard from the blonde sitting on the couch. Craig sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes and turning his head to face Tweek. The blue-clad boy looked a bit irritated, though also a bit concerned. "What is it _this_ time?"

"Agh! M-m-m-murder!" Tweek was shaking more than usual, huddled on the couch holding a pillow over his head, as if afraid something would fall on him. "See?!"

Craig's head turned to the side immediately, looking at the TV. Apparently, Tweek had been watching the news, yet again. The current story spoke of something that had apparently happened over an hour ago, at the very school Tweek and Craig attended.

"Police are still looking for the murderer. Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup, age fifteen, is the culprit, having entered the school building with a knife and the head of his classmate Bebe Stevens, age 16, and also having killed Wendy Testaburger, age 16. The murderer is still on the loose, possibly still within South Park. Repeat - _The murderer is still on the loose._"

Craig sucked in his breath sharply, eyes wide and face pale. "Holy fucking shit."

"W-what if he comes and gets me?! What if he kills us too, Craig?!" Tweek had crawled over so that he was now next to the other boy, and he now clung tightly to him. Craig didn't answer, but rather, he slowly stood up, pulling Tweek to his feet as well.

"We have to leave."

"Gah! L-leave? We can't leave the house! W-what if he's outside waiting to stab us in the legs and then smash our skulls in?!"

"I meant leave the _town._" Craig grunted, grabbing Tweek by the wrists. "Come on, Tweek. My car's still in the driveway - _we have to leave._"

"Why leave the town?" Tweek whined, but allowed himself to be dragged out to Craig's car.

"Wait until we're out of town. Then I'll have time to explain."

* * * * *

_ Why are you doing this? This is terrible! _

** I don't have to tell you, blondie.**

_ You're using my body to kill innocent people! Why, Damien, why?_

** Shut up, Pip.**

Damien chuckled at the sound of Pip's whimpers and cries in his head. Well, Pip's head, technically - but right now, the Anti-Christ was the one in control of the British boy's body.

The chuckle soon became loud, wicked laughter, as Damien - though to anyone else, it would look like Pip - pushed his foot down on the gas pedal of a stolen car. The corpse of the original owner had already been hidden in the woods.

Pip knew he wouldn't be getting his body back anytime soon.

* * *

Okay, okay. I know this chapter sucked as well. But I promise the next one is gonna explain some things. Reviews are always welcome, flames will be copypasta'd into wordpad and saved for when I need a good laugh.


	3. Dead bodies, rising dead, and coffee

By the time Craig and Tweek had made it to some small town quite a ways from their own, it was night. Surprisingly, Tweek had actually fallen asleep in the backseat of the car. Though Craig had never even thought such a thing as _Tweek_ actually _sleeping_ to be possible, he guessed it was probably from the lack of caffeine. Throughout the whole road trip, they hadn't stopped once. It was nearly one in the morning by now...

"Hey. Tweek." Craig whispered shortly after parking the car in the parking lot of a small motel. He reached out and gently shook the blonde. As if he hadn't been sleeping at all, Tweek was suddenly wide awake. Blinking a few times, he sat up, staring at Craig with those wide, wide eyes of his.

"We're staying here for the night. Come on."

Tweek only nodded and followed Craig out of the car. The two walked into the building together, Tweek simply standing back awkwardly while Craig got a cheap room for the two of them. They walked down the hallway in silence, and it was just as silent when they entered the small, dark room that smelled faintly of cigarettes.

"... Craig?"

The raven-haired boy merely grunted in response from the bed he had stretched himself across.

"What... why are we all the way out here?"

Craig paused for a moment. This would require a very careful explanation - especially considering he was speaking to Tweek Tweak. Sighing inwardly, Craig wished he had just stayed in bed today. Then everything may have just stayed nice and boring for him.

"Well... Okay. Remember the murders today? In school?" Tweek nodded, cringing at the mentioning of what had happened. "Believe it or not, I _knew_ something like this would fucking happen. I just... didn't think it'd be like _that._"

"W-what? How... huh?!"

"I know, I know... I honestly can't explain much right now. But tomorrow, we're going to go see someone who can fill you in." The raven-haired teen sighed, turning over onto his side to face the wall, which appeared to be stained with wine in that particular spot.

_Please... Whatever happens, I just want everything to go back to normal soon..._ Craig thought, before falling into an unrestful slumber.

* * * * *

Groaning, Kenny McCormick sat up slowly, rubbing at his head. The feeling in his body was still only returning - though his head was throbbing painfully. _That's weird..._ the orange-clad teen thought, frowning and clutching at his head. _Usually, I don't get out of Hell that quickly... it's only been, what, two or three days?_

Taking a look at his surroundings, Kenny saw that he was behind the school, by the dumpsters. Figures he'd reappear where he had died. Out of curiousity, the blonde looked around, wondering if the syringe was still here. Maybe he could get a quick fix before he went home...

Instead, he found something... rather unpleasant. The boy could see a pale, limp hand hanging out from inside the dumpster. To be specific, a hand that was missing its thumb and fingers. Staring for a moment, the baby blue eyes of the boy grew wider than usual as he tightened the strings of his parka hood.

Slowly, very slowly, he reached out and lifted the lid of the dumpster, as cautious as if he were afraid something may jump out at him. Almost immediately, he pulled his hand back, stumbling backwards as a muffled gasp escaped him. Landing flat on his ass in the snow, Kenny tugged on the strings of his parka until only his widened eyes could be seen.

He had caught a glimpse of the mutilated, blood-splattered body of Bebe.

Now, the poor, death-prone boy was quite sure he may have known what was going on.

* * * * *

"You sure your mom's not gonna freak out about this?" Stan glanced to Kyle, who kept his eyes on the road. Kyle laughed a short, bitter laugh. "You kidding, dude? She'd kill me if she knew I was out driving while there's a murderer on the loose." The reply was sarcastic, though Kyle was really restraining himself from panicking completely.

Two people had been killed in his school, one right before his very eyes. The murderer - someone he knew - was still on the loose. Most of all, Kyle had a feeling that this was only the beginning of something absolutely terrible. Usually, that seemed to be how these things happened...

"Kyle! Pull over!" Stan suddenly grabbed the redhead's shoulder, shaking him a bit. Startled, Kyle slammed down on the brakes - nearly running over Kenny. The two boys let out sighs of relief after they noticed Kenny was fine. Or at least, he wasn't hurt. However, the tightly-drawn strings on his parka showed he was terrified.

"Kenny? Dude, what's wrong?" Stan asked immediately as Kenny quickly scrambled into the back seat. Kyle mumbled a much more polite, "Welcome back, Kenny...", but neither the raven-haired boy or the blonde seemed to have heard him.

Loosening his hood a bit, Kenny manged to shriek, "GO! Step on it, Kyle! We have to go NOW!"

"Okay, okay, jeeze!" Kyle's feeling of panic only increased at his friend's apparent fear. This could be worse than he thought. Much worse... That was, of course, how things usually seemed to go in South Park.

"There's someone we have to go see." Kenny panted, holding his hand over head in frustration. He dug in his pocket for a few seconds, then held out a tiny, worn scrap of paper with some address written in messy handwriting.

"Tophe?"

"Don't ask. Just drive. There's just two people we're gonna need for a full explanation, okay?"

Kyle sighed heavily, but nodded once. He didn't like how this situation was turning out at _all._..

But, as usual, none of the boys had a choice at all.

* * * * *

"Tweek, gimmie your phone." Craig held out one hand expectantly, not even looking at the boy sitting across from him. Though he didn't want to, Craig had taken Tweek to a coffee shop next to the motel they had stayed at. Though he had wanted to hurry things up, the blonde had begged and pleaded with him, stating he absolutely needed coffee. So here they were.

Too busy drinking coffee - he had bought at least a dozen cups of black coffee, and was currently on his ninth already - Tweek simply handed his friend a cell phone he had quickly fished out of his pocket.

Dialing quickly, Craig mumbled as he stood up out of his chair. "I'll be right back."

Stepping out and holding the phone to his ear, Craig waited. Ringing, ringing... Finally, an answer.

"Craig? I'm kinda busy right now, you know, and I--" Kyle's voice sounded frustrated and panicked.

"Lemme talk to Kenny." Craig said quickly, standing just outside the coffee shop. There was a slight rumbling noise, the raven-haired boy assumed that Kyle was handing his phone over to Kenny.

"Craig?" The muffled reply told Craig he was talking to just the boy he had asked for.

"Kenny. You know what happened?" Craig sucked in his breath quickly, anticipating the answer. There was a long pause, Craig was almost expecting that the parka-wearing teen had died yet again. He let out his breath slowly as he heard Kenny's muffled voice again.

"Yeah. Where the hell are you? Kyle's driving me to Tophe's, Stan's here too."

"Some coffee shop in his town. Tweek's here... But I really don't think it's a good idea to bring anyone else along. You know damn well we could all be killed."

"Yeah, yeah, Craig. But since when do we _not_ all get involved in crazy shit like this?" Kenny replied sarcastically,

He had quite a point, Craig had to admit.

"Whatever, just get here as fast as you can. Motel. Room 13."

Not even waiting for a reply, Craig hung up, walking back into the coffee shop. He noticed that Tweek had, apparently, finished his coffee already... All twelve cups. Craig wasn't surprised, actually. He and Tweek had become friends over the years, and Craig knew that, if anything, twelve cups within two hours was perhaps a bit less than normal for Tweek.

"C'mon, Twitchy. We're going back to the motel for a bit, alright? We're gonna meet up with someone else, then... Then that's when the real shit's gonna start."

* * *

... e3e; This took forever. Sorry. South Park and all characters still do not belong to me. Sorry if anyone seems out of character, I fail at life.


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